


All You Owe Me is Your Company

by TheCursedTypewriter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hanzhardt, M/M, Oneshot, Oneshot?, Reinzo, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8078554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCursedTypewriter/pseuds/TheCursedTypewriter
Summary: “Kampai?”It takes everything in Hanzo’s body not to smirk.He taps his glass to Reinhardt’s.
“Kampai.”





	

It was a cool night in Hanamura; the streets alive with colored lights, the trees dressed with lanterns and ribbons, and the shopping centers decorated with a wide array of signs. It’s February, and this month’s mission called for the team to collect in Japan on the account of more underground Talon activity. However, while they didn’t have plans to move out until March, it didn’t stop the heroes from venturing out to explore the city in their free time. Which was, conveniently, prettied up in preparation for a very special day.  
February 14th.  
Valentine’s day.

The streets were bustling with women in heavy coats, clacking about the streets in search for the perfect gifts and even more perfect cooking equipment. Pans, pots, whisks, spatulas, fresh chocolate, strawberries, icing; the whole package. Today, the 13th, was their last chance to whip up what they could for tomorrow. Well, at least for those who hadn’t a week prior. 

As the heroes roamed the area incognito, they took in the wonderful smells and the gorgeous view. Hanamura, glazed in powder, alive with the giggles of women and the smell of baked goods, warmed by red and orange lights. There was music playing from the larger shopping centre’s, and many restaurants open and warm enough to melt the snow close to their windows and entrances. 

Many of the heroes split off with their closer friends or went merely to sight see; Lucio and Hana racing off to eat as many samples as possible without paying, Tracer bouncing about with her Kodak in hand, Mccree, Genji, and Mercy heading off to try one of the nicer restaurants, etc.   
It seemed that everyone had something to do here. It was a beautiful night; who wouldn’t take this opportunity to enjoy it?

It seemed impossible for anyone to resist, but it was just easy enough for one Hanzo Shimada. The festivities drew too much attention to them, in his opinion. It was smart to keep Winston tucked away in their set base for fear of drawing attention, but going out in the public in casual attire didn’t help much at all.  
He was simply playing devil’s advocate; it was fun, but it was reckless. What they were doing was putting them all in danger.   
But even Hanzo knew that deep down, he hadn’t much liked the holidays.

As a child, he was kept indoors to train; to learn, to practice, to apply, and to master. There wasn’t time for a holiday, and going into his teen years, he had no one to celebrate with.   
He’d grown to despise them, and stubbornly clung to that mentality that he was, in fact, alone. No one had offered to take him around, and he wasn’t expecting it. 

He sat in the base now, seated at the dining hall alone. Cold, dark, and blue was the room. He was dressed in his usual attire, donning a black fleece to keep out the chill. He was stubborn, but getting a cold over not liking the idea of jackets was ridiculous. It’s zipped up to his chin, and pulled tight over his wrists.   
He sits alone, a variety of holograms sat before him. Each convey their own separate information. One shows the targeted base; a Talon set up buried under the Shimada province. The bastards really had the gull alright.. Another displays their tactic, currently being edited by Winston and Athena on the polar side of the base. He watches with pinched eyes and lowered brows; He could admit that the Scientist had great strategy, but he was too vague on the subject of flaw; he didn’t take into account that certain points left them open to sneak attacks, nor did he have a plan B in the case that this one failed. It seemed he was confident, but being too cocky could get them all killed.

Hanzo sighs, taking a moment to rub the bridge of his nose with his index.  
He could take the walk to Winston’s office and discuss the mission plan, but if he were to be completely honest, conversation with Winston was almost unbearable. Nervous stuttering, terrible puns, and the wafting smell of peanut butter. He was great during their team meetings, but one on one conversation seemed impossible for him.   
Unless it was with his AI, of course.  
The last hologram Hanzo decides to acknowledge is their hero roster. Each tab displays a name, a title, a role, and an assortment of comments.   
Hanzo taps on his own name to start. It’s his name in both Japanese and English, as well as his age and health record, as it was a personal account. Sniper is the role he seems to play here, paired with Defensive Line. He can see the route he’s meant to take for the mission, put in a team with two other members.   
Pulling up their respective tabs, while their health records remain hidden, he can view their own routes in comparison to his own.   
Nothing that really interests him.

Taking a break from the eyesore that was the yellow projections, he turns to his tea. It’s gone cold. He reaches for the cup, disgusted with the frosty feel of its porcelain holder. He hadn’t realized he’d neglected it as he read, and with a sigh, rose from his seat.  
Winston had shut off several of the base heaters, wanting to preserve their electricity and be eco-friendly, as one of the heroes had suggested they do.  
It made sense, but displeased Hanzo nonetheless. He had no access to controls like that, and Athena had already reminded him that if there was a certain unit he wanted switched on, there’d need to be more team members around. She’d invited him to Reside in Winston’s office until the other’s returned, and he politely declined.

His footsteps echo in the metallic room, sharp pangs as metal heels slid over metal floors. The place seemed a lot more depressing with nothing going on. No yelling or rumbling conversation in the background, no skates or stomps to be heard, no horseplay and no collected discussion. Just him, his footsteps, and the faint buzz of the lights overhead. 

Stepping into the kitchen, he took the pot he’d used to brew his first cup and dumped the contents into the sink. It’d gone cold as well, much to Hanzo’s distaste. A new pot of water, (sad that they didn’t have anything more reliable, like an actual kettle) and a new assortment of tea leaves. Unlike his brother, he didn’t prefer to sweeten them with sugar or honey. The effects lasted longer when they weren’t amplified by some form of sweetener.   
He stares for a while into the pot, scratched and bent with time. It’s a lot warmer by the stove, that’s for sure, and he takes a moment to melt his icy palms with its heat.

He only snatches them back when approaching footsteps catch his attention. Not rough thuds and slaps, like Winston’s feet and fists moving about the base. Boots; heavy ones.  
No gear on the person, nothing but themselves and a pair of boots.  
He peers into the dining area suspiciously, only to be calmed by the bulking figure of one Reinhardt Wilhelm making his way in. He reminds himself to duck, it seems, pausing at the entrance a moment before lowering his head and scooting along.   
It confuses Hanzo for a moment as well. He hadn’t expected Reinhardt of all people to still be lingering around the base with such a beautiful city so close by.  
His brows lower, but he turns back to the pot before him. He wasn’t in the mood for much conversation.

But it seemed that Reinhardt was.

Hanzo mentally cringes as he prepares for the thunderous shouts of the larger man, closing his eyes and preparing a loud sigh in retaliation.  
He does not, however, expect the soft grumbles that float across the room.  
“I see you’ve been just as engaged in Winston’s work as I have,” he chuckles, a purr of a sound almost. It’s enough to call Hanzo’s eyes to his figure, brows unwinding from their tight pinch against his nose. “Though I am surprised. I would have thought that you’d leave to go and explore.”   
Hanzo almost forgets to respond, genuinely shocked by the man’s ability to speak in anything but a constant shout. It’s a comfortable volume that still seems to resonate within the room.   
He lowers his gaze, clearing his throat.  
“I have lived in Hanamura all of my life. I’m aware of what is in it, especially during the Holidays.” It’s a bit of a cold shoulder response, but it doesn’t phase Reinhardt in the slightest. He rubs the back of his neck, but continues.  
“That is very true. Most of our team does not know Hanamura as well as you do, however. Wouldn’t you want to join them and show them the place?” He speaks as he moves for the fridge, opening the door, disappointed by the significant lack of anything good to snack on.  
Hanzo rolls his eyes.  
“I am not a tour guide. Genji has joined them, anyways. I’m sure that if they wish to know more, they’ll ask him.”  
It goes quiet after that. Reinhardt hums his defeat, and continues to rummage the kitchen.  
However, with all the clanking around, Hanzo gives in to pressure of the other’s presence and sighs.  
“Do you agree with Winston’s layout?” Hanzo asks over his shoulder.  
Reinhardt is quick to whip around, brow raised.  
“Do you disagree?”  
Hanzo narrows his brows.  
“He has excellent tactic. His intentions are good and well, and I can see that he has been collaborating with the AI to prepare; however, I am not in agreement with certain points he has made for the mission.” Hanzo turns to face Reinhardt a bit more, crossing his arms. Part of him feels warmer discussing this topic with someone of equal intelligence. He wouldn’t admit, but chatting with Reinhardt was, while a little deafening at times, pleasant. There was a lot that they could discuss.   
Reinhardt nods.  
“While I can work with my own route, there are certain areas that I’d like to bring to Winston to debate. I don’t understand why our defense is meant to take back roads so far away from the point.” He sounds almost guilty voicing his opinion. Almost.   
Hanzo nods, parting his lips to make another statement, only to be cut off but a deep sigh.  
“But i’m sure that battle is the last thing we ought to be contemplating at such an hour. It’s important, but we could use a break from such pressing matters.” Reinhardt takes one last look in the cabinet before closing it, resting his hands on his hips.  
“I can see that there isn’t much to eat here..” He looks to Hanzo slyly, and Hanzo’s face contorts with confusion. “If only there was someone I knew who could lead me to a local diner?”  
His expression falls flat, and Hanzo rolls his eyes, turning back to the pot of tea.  
“If only.”  
Reinhardt pouts, before walking over to him, hands behind his back.  
“Come on, Hanzo. It is a shame that you don’t leave base for anything but tea and supplies. It is a beautiful night, I hear! And I could always use a drinking buddy.” He winks and claps Hanzo on the back with a roaring guffaw.   
Hanzo jerks with the impact, eyes widening. Drinking buddy?  
“You have the dwarf to drunk with, don’t you?” Hanzo knew that they’d brought him along. Where was he?  
“Torbjörn?” Another chuckle. “He’s gone off to tail Angela,” Reinhardt leans against the counter closest to Hanzo some, clearly in a lighter mood. “He ran out about an hour ago to catch up with her. I doubt he’ll get any good word in with Mccree there, though. He can certainly try.”   
Hanzo scoffs. Of course. He was sly, that man. But he knew his intentions with Angela were good. Nothing perverted, as far as he knew.  
“It is not just drinking I want to do with you,” Something about the way that’s said makes Hanzo stiffen. “I was thinking perhaps we could have our own night out.” That sounded even worse.  
“We were left in the base, and the others have all parted into their own groups to sight see. You and I could go off and do our own exploring. You are familiar with the area, and we seem to be out of anything good to eat.”  
There was plenty to eat, Hanzo knew. Reinhardt was just picky about the snacks they had packed into each compartment.  
“I will pay. All you will owe me is your company.” He looks so earnest when he says that. It’s a warm, welcoming look. It doesn’t judge, nor does it look forced. He wants this, and plans to make it worthwhile.

He’s not sure why, and he knows he may regret it, but it sells.  
Hook line and sinker.  
Within a good 10 minutes the two are dressed and out of the door, Reinhardt looking much warmer than Hanzo. He’d swapped out his metallics for socks and boots, jeans, and a flight jacket Lena had bought him half a year back. It hardly looked as warm as Reinhardt’s trench coat and scarf.

As the two made their way out, Hanzo took in their surroundings. The snow was just barely falling, only noticeable when it passed through the light. It was definitely cold, forcing Hanzo’s hands to retreat into his pockets, but it didn’t fail to be beautiful. The snow building up seemed untouched this close to the base, and he was sure Genji was finding a way to make the scenery look much more romantic than it had to. Peaceful was all it was. Peaceful and cold.

They’d taken public transport into the crowded city, and Hanzo felt at a loss of words. It’d been so long since he’d been here. Hanamura had aged without him it seemed, and everything looked taller. Brighter. Newer. He feels very old for his age, all too suddenly. 

In their wandering around town, Reinhardt asks about many things. He asks what certain things mean in english. He asks about the food and the preparation. He indulges in the culture for a little while as well, asking if Hanzo knew where most things stemmed from. It’s almost comfortable, talking about Hanamura. Horrible things happened here, things that Hanzo knew he’d been, for the most part, accountable for. But it was almost cathartic, talking about it.   
Reinhardt was an impressive listener, and applied much of what he was informed of to different areas.   
They’d pass a noodle shop, and Reinhardt would attempt to make out the characters as best he could.  
He was never right, but it was entertaining to see him try.  
They stopped at plenty of stands and walk in diners, snacking around before they’d go to a bar Hanzo had mentioned. They had great alcohol, good food, better entertainment. A bar that bested the ones they’d known of in America. Reinhardt had playfully argued that Hanzo had yet to test out a “real” (German) bar, but agreed to taste the liquor.

An hour later, the two laughed over table manners and a bottle of Shochu.  
“Now,” Hanzo snorts, red faced and sweaty in his jacket. “If I finish my drink, like this,” he throws back the last of his cup, struggling to set it down on the coaster. “If I finish mine, you take the bottle-” He fumbles slightly for Reinhardt’s hand, before raising it and moving the bottle into his palm. “And you pour me more.”  
Reinhardt complies, filling Hanzo’s cup, and effectively spilling it over the table some.  
He throws a napkin over the mess, and chuckles.   
“Why do I do that again?” He’s playing stupid.  
“Because it’s polite!” He exclaims in mock annoyance, before pushing his glass over a bit.   
“Now, if you finish yours-” Reinhardt is quick to gulp down what’s left of his fifth glass.   
“I pour you more.”  
“When do we toast? What was it called… Kampai? When do we say this.”  
Reinhardt takes up his glass and swirls its contents, earning another giggle out of Hanzo.  
“We already said it. You only say it when you start drinking.” Hanzo takes a sip, rubbing the taste between his lips for a bit before licking it over.  
“So formal,” Reinhardt purrs with a wiggle of his shoulders, mocking a feminine tone as best as he could.  
Hanzo shoves him playfully, shaking his head.   
“And what do you barbarians do when you drink? Break a bottle over your knee and down what pours out?” Hanzo teases, and Reinhardt throws an arm over his shoulder, chortling with enough force to shake Hanzo out of his boots. He doesn’t reject the contact, instead raising his brow and grinning.  
“Not at all! We take our glasses- pick yours up,” Hanzo does as he’s told.   
“And, we clink,” he taps his glass to Hanzo’s lightly.   
“And we say ‘Prost’. Simple as that.” He gulps down his drink with that, and Hanzo looks at his glass confused for a moment.   
“And that’s all you do?” A nod.  
“Nothing more, nothing less, Liebling! That is all you must do.”   
Hanzo looks to his glass with a sneer, swishing the word around in his cheeks some. He finally settles on butchering it down to “post”, before taking his own sip. It’s enough to make Reinhardt spit out his drink with his laughter. Thankfully this place was loud and well occupied. He was sure that under any other circumstance his volume would attract a lot of unwanted attention.

They leave the bar, unable to walk straight without holding onto each other, heading out to explore in their drunken happiness.

 

“What do you do for Valentine’s day here?” Reinhardt hums after a good 15 minutes of laughing and trying not to slip on frozen patches of the sidewalk.  
Hanzo looks over to Reinhardt, raising his brows.   
“It’s similar to American Valentine’s day, almost.” V’s are very hard to work out for Hanzo right now. He bites his lip at his own foolish slurring.   
“Women give their men the chocolate, and Men give back on the 15th of March.” Was it March?  
It was probably March.  
“You can give friends and family chocolate too, but it has to be different chocolate.”  
Reinhardt makes a curious sound.  
“There’s Giri-choko,” Hanzo near trips on the word. “Tomo-choko, and Honmei-choko.” He can feel the older man nod, gripping onto his arm for balance over another slippery snowy sidewalk.   
“Do you have to give them one of those?”   
Hanzo scoffs. “Of course. There is a custom here, and that is how it is meant to be done.”  
“Can we buy it, even if we have no one to give it to?” Reinhardt hums curiously.  
Hanzo sighs.  
“Yes. Though I don’t doubt we will get strange looks for it.”  
Reinhardt waves his arm dismissively, eyes pinching with his grin.  
“Bah, they know nothing! I can say I am a tourist who wishes to try the confections.”  
Hanzo’s surprised Reinhardt can remember such big words after all he had to drink.

They settle on a box of Honmei after some looking around, and make a sloppy trip back to the base with what they had.

A near empty bottle of shochu and some lover’s chocolates.

 

When they return, they about fall over each other trying to squeeze into the doorway, Hanzo opting to push Reinhardt through before stumbling in himself. Reinhardt catches him when he slips, but Hanzo drags him down in his panic, landing the two on their asses. Reinhardt holds their items up, however, and they sigh with relief. The last thing they needed was for Winston to gripe about the mess of alcohol and chocolate.  
Hanzo complains about the cold of the dining room, stubbornly wrapping his jacket closer around himself. Reinhardt offers to take things to his room for the sake of not catching a cold, claiming to have a switch on heater on his desk.  
Hanzo accepts, and the two make their way to the dorm.

His room is a lot more spacious compared to his own, Hanzo first notices. Then again, given such a large man, it’d only make sense to give him as much room as possible.   
“I’ll get the heater running,” Reinhardt smiles, setting down their goods on his mattress, before making for the heater. Hanzo takes in the many Hasselhoff posters, along with a signed autograph of Hana by the light switch. It seemed the two were acquainted in the past as well. He also takes in the bookshelf parallel to the bed. It’s crammed with a variety of books of varying sizes, some with the tails of bookmarks hanging out, others with post it notes or cards. That bookshelf must’ve held decades of literature. Maybe things from before the 2000’s. Reinhardt was stuck in the past; it’s what made him so easy to speak to sometimes. The both of them were trapped in their own ancient era’s, it seemed, and weren’t moving too fast to let them go.   
There’s also a tattered poster of a man in armor on his wall, labeled “The Crusader” in an extra fine print. It catches his attention for a little while, before it’s stolen by a clap of two hands. Reinhardt dusts his hands as a heavy whirring sound fills the room, no doubt the heater.  
“Does Winston know you have that?” He asks calmly, unzipping his coat.  
“Of course! It was a gift. Winston noticed that my room doesn’t receive much of the electrical benefits as the rest of the base, so he let me borrow a few mobile outlets until he can fix it.”  
Hanzo nods.  
Reinhardt sheds his scarf and coat, hanging them on the post at the foot of the bed. Hanzo follows suit, hanging his jacket over Reinhardt’s.   
“It will take a little while,” Reinhardt takes a seat beside the archer, plopping down and bouncing Hanzo the slightest. “But it should warm up nice.”

And so they sit there, waiting for it to warm. Hanzo takes the time to reach around in the bag beside him, and Reinhardt works out the kinks in his neck with loud pops. The two are still pink from earlier activity, but it’s only when Hanzo pulls out the box does he go red.   
Honmei.   
“The beloved chocolate”.   
His muscles stiffen, and he sucks in his lips. Reinhardt, feeling the figure beside him tense, looks over Hanzo’s shoulder, chin tucked in the gap of his neck and shoulder.  
“What is it? Did something break?”  
Hanzo jumps, but doesn’t move him off. He can’t read what it says, so there’s no reason to be embarrassed, right? The two were sharing, it wasn’t a gift.   
A simple mistake that would cost nothing.  
Shaking his head, he pulls the box onto his lap, undoing the ribbon. “Nothing broke.” He comments flatly, before removing the lid and handing it over to Reinhardt. Fudge squares, decorated with pinks and yellows and whites, all in different patterns with different little messages.  
Hanzo takes the shochu and unscrews the lid, before taking a sip.  
“You can have them. I’m not in the mood for sweets.” Hanzo comments past the bottle in his mouth, flopping back onto the bed.  
He was light headed, and felt very fuzzy on the inside. Like his whole body was vibrating in a way.   
Reinhardt scoffs, before taking a chocolate and biting off half with a satisfied groan.   
“You must have at least one,” he insists, resting the box on Hanzo’s stomach and propping himself on his elbow beside Hanzo’s head. It makes the archer blush, but he doesn’t move, furrowing his brows.  
“No,” He huffs stubbornly. Raising the half bitten piece to Hanzo’s mouth, he pokes at his lips, brows upturned.   
“Please? It would mean the world to me.”  
“Bullshit.” Hanzo retorts, licking the shochu off of his lower lip.  
Reinhardt, however, mops it up with the chocolate before he can even try, leaning in closer to Hanzo’s face. Hanzo opens his eyes just slightly, looking up with annoyance.  
“One piece, and I will save the rest for myself.”

… Hanzo slowly parts his lips for the intruding sweet, nabbing it between his teeth and taking it into his mouth. Reinhardt watches all the while, and Hanzo groans out a sound of embarrassment, quickly closing his lips over the bottle and using a free hand to push at Reinhardt’s face.   
He chews and drinks simultaneously, and Reinhardt laughs.  
“You look very cute when you look at me like that.” He muses, and Hanzo pushes harder, enough to make Reinhardt recline in defeat.   
“Leave me to drink,” he chuckles past the half chewed brownie in his mouth, and Reinhardt huffs, resuming to resting and watching.  
“Such a rude guest,” he comments, mocking pain and clutching the area over his chest. “Not even sharing a drink. Where are your drinking manners?”  
What a lazy old man. Hanzo gives into his teases, angling the bottle his way. Reinhardt closes his lips around the collar, and Hanzo tips it up. It’s only when Reinhardt stubbornly holds onto the bottle does he cast aside the chocolates and yank.   
“Hey, you’re drinking it all.” He grunts, pulling a second too late as Reinhardt swallowed down what was left.  
“Drinking is bad for you young people, right?” The knight laughs, taking the smack to his chest in stride.   
“Bastard.. I’m not a child.” Reinhardt reaches down and pats his thigh apologetically, chest heaving with his heavy laughter.   
“I’ll get more, I’ll get more,” he giggles, propping himself up to sit.   
Hanzo squints hard, before yanking the back of his collar down roughly, enough to tip the other man onto his back. Shifting onto his knees, he rests his weight against Reinhardt’s side. His hands on either side of Reinhardt’s head, he leans in and seals his lips over Reinhardt’s mouth, eyes clenched shut and brows pulled tight. He’d get the last laugh, if anyone. Even if it meant stealing the flavor right out of bastard’s mouth.  
It takes Reinhardt by surprise to start. Hanzo’s lips are stiff and tight, only intending to pull rather than to push. He’s aggressive, but the way it makes Reinhardt’s chest flutter knocks the anger right out of the equation. Hanzo was kissing him, and that’s all he could register.  
And so, reaching a hand up, he cups the back of Hanzo’s neck and keeps him close, clasping the other hand over his forearm.   
The passionate hold seems to melt Hanzo as well, and it’s only a few moments before he relaxes against the other’s mouth. His upper lip is tickled by Reinhardt’s mustache, especially when the knight shifts his head to better hug Hanzo’s lips. His expression loosens, and he can feel his wrists quiver. Something about this made him feel heavier, and the weight was beginning to grow unbearable.

He breaks the lip lock with soft puff, and Reinhardt kisses at the corner of his mouth as he pulls away.   
“Let me get up.” Hanzo mumbles, and Reinhardt removes his hand from Hanzo’s neck.   
The archer, wobbles as he sits up, before rolling onto his back, nearly crushing the chocolates in the process.  
But it seems Reinhardt isn’t keen on abandoning the feeling.  
As Hanzo shifts, he follows, left forearm flat above Hanzo’s head, free hand caressing Hanzo’s bicep. It confuses Hanzo for a moment, but he doesn’t shy away when Reinhardt leans in for another. His mouth is finer than the alcohol to Hanzo, and he gladly drinks up every kiss pressed over his lips. 

Reinhardt’s hand slides from his arm to his waist, moving his kisses around Hanzo’s face. His cheek, his lower lip, his nose, his forehead, at one point his eyes even. Hanzo shivers with such affectionate contact, hands coming up to hold the older man’s jaw still for a moment.  
“Mmm.. What is it, meine lieb..?” He whispers against Hanzo’s cheek, and the archer sighs, turning into the other’s cheek himself.  
“Your beard tickles.” He admits quietly, and Reinhardt huffs a laugh.   
“I’m so sorry!” Reinhardt quietly exclaims, burying his face against the side of Hanzo’s head. Hanzo puffs, bringing a hand to hold the side of Reinhardt’s bicep.  
“You’re difficult to resist..” Reinhardt purrs just against his ear, and Hanzo stiffens, digging his fingers into the material of Reinhardt’s shirt. It’s a deep, rolling sound that itches at his eardrum, putting his hair on edge. It feels good, and Hanzo isn’t sure if he likes that or not.  
He closes his eyes again, and Reinhardt’s hand burrows under his back, hoisting him closer.

It takes a moment, but Hanzo, red faced and in the best of moods, heaves a small breath.  
“Again.” He says simply, and Reinhardt pulls back a bit.  
“Hm?”  
“Say something else there..” He moves Reinhardt’s face back to his ear stubbornly, keeping himself close.  
Reinhardt smiles, but doesn’t waste time in giving him what he wants, moving the hand on Hanzo’s back down to his thigh, raising it up and making room for Reinhardt’s own thigh. The denim articles slide together almost too well, and Hanzo’s breath hitches, his grasp on Reinhardt tightening.  
Reinhardt gently rolls his leg up into Hanzo’s groin, before hugging him tight.  
“You’re very attractive like this, Hanzo…” He purrs into his ear, and Hanzo can practically feel himself turn to jelly the moment he hums his name.   
“I’ve always wondered how you looked like this...I never want to forget.” He kisses just behind his ear, and Hanzo’s leg clamps over Reinhardt’s in response, turning to hide as much of himself as he could in the larger figure.   
Reinhardt never ceases in his shameless grinding, gently bumping his thigh into Hanzo’s growing erection, Hanzo rocking shyly into him. It feels good. It’s close, intimate, and very warm.  
Hanzo almost forgets the heater, well warmed by the massive man that held him so.

It’s in the middle of another compliment that Hanzo presses his palms against Reinhardt’s chest, turning away from the lips against his ear. Reinhardt lets up as well, worried he’d said something wrong.   
“Reinhardt..” Hanzo whispers, and the knight feels air light, putty in the archer’s hands.  
“Yes?” Reinhardt asks.  
“Are we going to..?” He sounds so innocent, so vulnerable and small. It makes Reinhardt’s heart drop, and he pulls back to examine Hanzo’s face. Still very much red, loose hairs clinging to his face. He reaches behind his head to undo his pony tail, gently tugging the band out of his hair and resting it elsewhere.   
“We don’t have to..” He trails off as Hanzo kisses over his mouth again. And again. And again. Before the two are right back at it. 

Hanzo reaches to undo Reinhardt’s fly, and Reinhardt kisses a trail down Hanzo’s chest, pulling the material of his shirt up to expose supple pecs. Without hesitation, he closes his mouth over one nipple, confidence boiling in his belly with Hanzo’s gasp. He flinches as though it burns, but encourages him to continue by arching up into his mouth.   
Reinhardt rolls his tongue over the areola, getting a feel for such a soft texture, before rolling his thigh back up into Hanzo’s crotch. He sucks with increasing force, feeling himself harden under Hanzo’s palm. He’d wiggled his hand into the opened zip and went to toy with his half hard member, and had Reinhardt’s mouth not been occupied he was sure he’d chuckle at the sight. 

Within minutes the two do away with their clothes, lost in their drunken pleasure highs, needily grinding into one another as they got situated.   
They feel, grope, and grab at each other, doing anything and everything possible to rile one another up.  
However, when Hanzo reaches down to give Reinhardt’s member a pull, he’s shocked at just how massive the Knight is.  
It startles him out of his needy wiggling, and he looks down, brows high.  
Reinhardt breaks from Hanzo’s chest curiously, taking a handful of his ass and giving a small squeeze.  
“What is it, schatz?” Reinhardt hums, kissing at Hanzo’s cheeks.

“I…” Hanzo starts, before moving to sit up on his side, looking down at the girth before him.  
Reinhardt may have been old, but he was definitely a young spirit.  
And body.  
“I can’t take all of that.” He says, and Reinhardt raises a brow.  
“What?”  
“It’s so big,” Hanzo mutters to himself, looking almost worried.   
Reinhardt sighs, chuckling.   
“I’m sorry. We don’t have to continue if-”  
“Let me try something.”  
Reinhardt almost looks surprised. But that was Hanzo, alright. Finding a way around any obstacle. Pushing Reinhardt to lie on his side, Hanzo lied beside him, back to the Knights chest, wiggling as closely as possible. He can feel the other’s man’s erection at his thigh, and he bites his lip, before settling in.  
Shamelessly, Hanzo spits into his hand, before reaching between his legs and taking the head of Reinhardt member into hand. The other gasps, and Hanzo pats his hip. He could try to make this work.  
It takes some time, spitting into his hand and lubing Reinhardt up, rinsing and repeating until the older man’s cock was slippery enough to pass his palm with ease. He spits one last time into his hand, this time applying it to the insides of his thighs. It’s lewd, it’s half assed, and it’s a disgusting feeling. But it worked. It would work; much better than wasting half an hour preparing him for 7 inches of German manhood in foreign territory. 

Reinhardt is confused for a moment, before Hanzo takes him back into hand and guides him between his thighs, just under his own erection. It makes him shiver, and Reinhardt is quick to get the idea.   
Steadying a wide palm on Hanzo’s hip, he smiles, kissing at the younger man’s shoulder and neck affectionately.  
Hanzo reaches up and winds a hand in Reinhardt’s hair with a lopsided smile, beckoning movement by grinding his hips back into the other’s. The knight bites back a hiss at how well he squeezes between those thighs of his, and wasting no time he picks up his own noisy pace.  
The boxspring creaks and groans with every thrust of his hips, and Hanzo whimpers each time the head of Reinhardt’s cock pushes against his balls.

It doesn’t take long before the two are unable to contain their sounds, Reinhardt growling into the shorter man’s neck, biting and sucking at what skin he could close his mouth around possessively, keeping Hanzo’s legs pinned together. Hanzo let off wails and groans alike, huffing out things in Japanese that Reinhardt couldn’t quite hear or comprehend. He was lost in the feeling, greedily reaching for Hanzo’s own groin and jerking him in time with each rough buck of his hips. It leaves Hanzo huffing and whining, losing his voice between each word and wheezing out pleas for release. They’re bodies meet with loud smacks of skin, and it doesn’t take long before the pleasure of such rough contact has him spilling out in Reinhardt’s palm, hands leaping to grab onto the bedsheets.  
Reinhardt, though he takes little while longer, finishes in thick spurts between Hanzo’s legs, pulling back to decorate an asscheek in white as well, before releasing the both of their manhood’s.  
Hanzo twitches and sighs in the aftermath, nails having left red half moons in the older man’s skin from how hard he’d clung to him.  
Reinhardt himself feels dizzy from the wild bucking, lying still as he attempted to process the world around him once more.

The air around them is warm, sweaty, and reeking of alcohol. Hanzo’s behind is red, and Reinhardt’s knuckles are white.  
They slump together, the white noise the heater’s engine provided being all that accompanied their ears at the moment.  
It’s Reinhardt who first breaks the silence, nuzzling into Hanzo’s neck and kissing over the deep red marks there.  
“Hanzo..?” No response. A small shiver.  
He closes his arms around Hanzo’s figure, drawing him close and kissing behind his ear.  
“Hanzo.”  
A soft warbling groan relieves Reinhardt, and he pets the archer’s side apologetically.

 

-

 

“Oh Hanzo, you should’ve seen it!” Lena exclaims, laying out the many photos she took during her stroll.   
“The decorations were absolutely gorgeous last night! And the food- the takoyaki was just scrummy!”  
Hanzo nods over a cup of tea, trying hard not to let the loud voices rattle him too much. It seemed that after all the shochu his head wasn’t quite ready for loud sounds. He keeps his composure as best as he can as the groups share their night experience over breakfast. Eggs and sausage, thanks to Lena. She wasn’t the best cook, but thankfully the small stuff she made was fantastic.

Genji turns to Hanzo, nodding playfully.   
“And you, brother? What were you up to last night?”   
Hanzo looks across the table to Reinhardt, whom is currently engaged in Angela’s night in further detail, the knight occasionally shooting soft glances over to the archer across the way.  
It makes Hanzo huff a light sigh, before returning to his tea.  
“I opted to stay in the base and help with mission tactics.” Most of the younger members groaned, advising him to get out more and enjoy himself.

Reinhardt rises to pour himself another cup of coffee, and Hanzo’s eyes follow the marks on his arms as he pours.   
He’d written it off as scratching too hard, and there was something exciting about knowing the true origins of those finger marks.  
With a playful wink, Reinhardt raises his mug to Hanzo.   
“Kampai?”  
It takes everything in Hanzo’s body not to smirk.  
He taps his glass to Reinhardt’s.

“Kampai.”

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 1K NOT 6K IM SO SORRY.
> 
> This is my first fic here, I guess! 6K of a rarepair for a popular fandom. 
> 
> Really quick wanna shout out to my Reinzo server! The people there are fantastic!!
> 
>  
> 
> Feel free to join us! : https://discord.gg/bYkWK
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!


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